Rocked & Romanced, page 40
He laughs and holds out his arm for me to take, and I’m taken aback by how much of a gentleman he is. If the guys in 2009 were even one-fourth as much of a gentleman as men are now, dating would be so much easier.
I place my hand in the crook of his elbow, and as soon as I touch his skin, I instantly feel as though my hand is on fire, and sparks are shooting up my arm and down to my belly.
At this moment, I realize I might be in very big trouble.
Chapter 2
David
This beautiful girl on my arm just sent shockwaves through my whole body. My dad always said he knew with one look that he was in love with my mother, but the first time they touched, it was like they were burned into each other's souls. And I think that’s what just happened to me.
That’s how it feels now with her hand on my arm as I guide her across the road toward my house. Like my soul just linked with hers, and I didn’t know I was walking around as only half of myself. But now I think I know what it feels like to be whole, and I don’t ever want to give it up.
“It actually needs some work,” I say, but my voice comes out much huskier than I planned. I don’t want to scare her away, but I want to talk to her. I want to know every little thing about her.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” I ask. She hasn’t taken her eyes off the house, but when I call her beautiful, a small smile graces her lips. Pride hits me that I was able to put that smile there.
“Ivy,” she says as she turns her stunning emerald green eyes on me.
“Ivy.” I test the name on my lips and instantly love it. “I’m David.”
We walk through the gate that’s next on my list of upgrades. I need to increase security because my singing career is climbing. My first single did better than anyone ever expected, so they are already rushing for me to put out the next. I push that thought from my head. I want Ivy to have all my attention.
“This old girl needs a name,” I say, talking about the house.
“You haven’t named her yet?” she asks, a little shocked.
“No, couldn’t think of anything I loved,” I say. Her eyebrows pinch, almost as if in confusion.
As we walk up to the door, I hold it open for her. She smiles up at me as she steps inside. Having her in my space affects me. It’s almost as though with her here, it’s now a home. I watch her take in the house in wonder.
“This will be the living area. It’s bare now because I haven’t been able to decide on a color scheme.” The room currently has white carpet and red velvet drapes that were here when I moved in. It’s definitely not to my taste, but I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to think about what I would like instead.
“To the left here will be the dining room. The kitchen is on the other side of the wall there,” I say as we head that way. I watch her eyes take it all in before I point at the stairs. “Up there are the bedrooms and where I’ve pretty much been living, and around here is the kitchen. This was the first room I had redone before I even moved in. I need my food.” I laugh.
She smiles and takes in the kitchen. The kitchen overlooks a room that I’m sure is supposed to be a family room at the back of the house. Though I’m not sure what I will be doing with it because it sits bare right now.
At this moment, I can see Ivy in the kitchen making dinner while I sit there with my guitar working on music or maybe entertaining in the family room. I can see morning coffees sitting at the counter. I can see it all so clear, and I can’t keep the grin off my face.
She walks around the kitchen, lightly trailing her fingers across the countertops like she is scared to touch them but just can’t stop herself. I am now jealous of my own kitchen countertops because I want to be the one she trails her fingers across. I wonder what it would be like to feel her fingers run down my skin that way.
I start to feel the stirring of arousal and have to take a deep breath. Getting hard within the first hour of meeting this girl would send her running.
“Here, why don’t you sit down and let me get you a glass of water.” After she sits at the counter, she watches me move around the kitchen. Her fingers brush mine as I hand her the glass. I watch her take a few sips of water, then I have an idea.
“Will you stay for lunch? I had lunch prepared. I was thinking we could eat outside, and I can show you the rest of the grounds?” I hope she’ll say yes. I just want a little more time with her, hoping she feels this connection.
She smiles up at me. “I’d love to. I’m so hungry it’s like I haven’t eaten in years.” She laughs quietly to herself, obviously laughing at her own joke.
After asking Ivy to wait, I head to find my housekeeper, who is also doubling as my cook right now. I ask her to make lunch for us to enjoy outside since the weather is so nice.
I rush back to Ivy, not wanting to waste a second of time with her. When I get back to her, she has finished the water and is standing at the window, looking out over the backyard.
This time, I take a chance and grasp her hand in mine. Unsure of how she will react, I look at her hand and intertwine my fingers with hers, taking in a shaky breath. I always thought my parents were crazy or just special. I never thought this kind of love, love at first sight, actually existed.
Until now. Until Ivy.
Once outside, we walk the small garden my mom put in before I lead her out to where I set up a small table and some chairs so I could enjoy dinner outside. I love coming out here at the end of the day to relax, but like the rest of the house, it needs work too. We head to the table, and I pull out a chair for her to take a seat.
After sitting down next to her, I start pulling items from the basket my housekeeper left on the table for us and serve her my favorite chicken salad sandwich and potato salad along with some sweet tea.
We share glances, and she grins, watching me set out the items for us. When everything is set, I pick up my sandwich, and say, “So tell me everything about you, Ivy, and don’t leave anything out.”
Chapter 3
Ivy
My eyes widen.
Tell him everything?
He wouldn’t believe me if I did. As it is, I’ve already had to watch what I say and think about every word before it leaves my mouth. He probably thinks I’m really shy and quiet.
“I never know what to say when someone says that. I’m better with direct questions. Besides, you don’t want to know about my life. It’s boring.”
“That’s where you are wrong, beautiful,” he says, and my stomach bursts into a field of butterflies, just like it has every time he has called me beautiful today. “My parents always tell me the story of how they met and fell in love. They tell me how it was love at first sight. My dad would say he knew in the depth of his soul that my mom was his. The moment she touched him, he felt her soul burn into his. Soul mates,” he says, staring directly into my eyes.
The field of butterflies multiplies, and my breathing gets heavy. His parents seem to be describing how I felt when we first met. But this can’t happen. My soul mate can’t be in 1957 when my life is in 2009. As if he can read my thoughts, he continues.
“That’s how I felt when I saw you standing across the street today. There is something between us, and I can tell you feel it too, even if you may not want to admit it right now.”
I shake my head. I can’t let this happen. I’m supposed to slip in, get some info for Brian, and slip out. Not make any waves and most certainly not allow the biggest name in rock and roll to think I’m his soul mate. This is not happening.
Oh god, Brian is going to kill me.
“I bet you say that to all the girls. It’s no wonder they all swoon for you.” I try to joke. After all, he does get himself a playboy reputation for a reason, and I’m sure that all starts now.
I glimpse what might be anger crossing his face quickly followed by hurt. My heart clenches. I can’t handle that look and knowing I put it there is killing me. But I tell myself I’m imagining it because there is no way David Miller isn’t making a play here. Right?
Before I can even speak, he is up and around the table. He kneels on the ground in front of me, so we are eye to eye. He brings one hand to my cheek and just looks into my eyes, searching for something.
His eyes plead with me as though he needs me to believe what he is about to say. It’s as if he’s looking past me and sees me, my soul, and the me I try to keep hidden.
“I haven’t said that to any girl. Ever. It’s okay if you don’t believe me right this moment, but in your heart, you know it’s true, and I will prove it to you. All I ask is that you give me the chance.” He takes in a shaky breath and brings his other hand up to frame my face with his hands.
“I’m going to kiss you now, beautiful, and if you don’t want that, then you need to stop me,” he says barely above a whisper.
My mind races. This is crazy. We’ve only known each other for a few hours. I may know all about him in the future—who he becomes and how his life turns out—but he knows nothing about me. He doesn’t even know my last name. But then I remember my time here is on a deadline of two weeks at most, so why not live a little and enjoy it? When I go back home, I can forget about it and move on, right?
Half my brain is yelling that I can’t do this and it’s a horrible idea. I should get up and walk right out the front gate and never look back. Go find a hotel room and get on with my plans.
The other half of my brain says it’s only two weeks, two weeks out of my whole life. Surely, I can have a little fun? I could be one of David Miller's first conquests. My heart then weighs in like an idiot and wants to believe him. Wants to believe the words are true, that he feels this connection and truly wants to be mine.
My heart wins out, and I lean in to kiss him. I swear at that moment, the world fades away the fact that I am fifty-two years in the past and all my doubts are gone. I just know that nothing that feels like this could possibly be wrong.
When his lips move over mine so softly, sparks shoot from all my nerve endings, and it’s as though our souls are connecting, and my soul is finally at home. He presses his tongue against my lips, seeking entrance, and when I open just a little, he’s right there in the most passionate kiss I’ve ever experienced. I kiss him back with everything I have because there’s no telling if I will ever get this chance again. His hand moves to the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair to angle my head and deepen the kiss.
Grasping his shirt, I pull him to me, and he comes like a magnet that can’t stay away. His other hand grips my waist, and my heart pounds as I grow aware of every little touch of his skin to mine.
When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine, and we both try to catch our breath.
“Tell me you felt that. Tell me it wasn’t just me,” he begs.
I can’t lie to him. Even if it’s scary or I know I should.
“I felt it,” I whisper.
He gives me a soft peck on the lips, then settles himself back in his chair. I can’t take my eyes off him, and his gaze never leaves mine.
“That was one hell of a kiss, Ivy.” His voice is as intense as his eyes.
My skin heats a bit as I look around, trying to break the connection.
“Yeah, it was,” I whisper.
He clears his throat. “Eat up, this is the best chicken salad sandwich you will ever have,” he says and takes a bite.
I take a bite and look down at my sandwich as I chew.
“Well?”
With a smile, I say, “It’s really good.” I watch a smile cover his face, thinking he won. “But it’s not the best I’ve ever had.”
His face falls, and he sets his sandwich down and wipes his mouth. “Oh, yeah? What was the best one you’ve had then?”
I can’t tell him it is the sandwich at Panera Bread from back home because I’m pretty sure that chain hasn’t even been invented yet. So I go with a version of the truth.
“There is this soup and sandwich shop near my house, and they have this amazing chicken salad sandwich. It has grapes and almonds, and they mix it with mayo and honey, and a few spices. The flavor is amazing. I have the recipe written down back at my house.”
“Where is back home?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
I just shake my head. I’m enjoying myself, so there’s no point in ruining it.
“Okay, so something a little simpler, what’s your last name?”
“Collins.”
“When is your birthday?”
I pause because I’m twenty-one, but I was born in 1988, but I can’t say that, so I say, “October eleventh.”
“What year were you born?” he asks, not missing a beat.
“Well, I’m twenty-one, so you do the math,” I smirk at him.
“Only a year younger than me so 1936.”
I smile at him and keep eating. We talk about simple things like favorite colors, favorite foods, and our families and friends. Before I know it, the sun is close to setting, and I realize I need to find a place to stay while I’m here.
I stand. “Thank you for lunch, David, but I really must be going now.”
He stands up and takes my hand. “Let me drive you home.”
“Well, I actually need to find a hotel. I just got into town this morning.”
He is quiet at first and then looks into my eyes. “I have a guest room, and you are more than welcome to stay here. In fact, I’d love more time with you. How long are you in town?” he asks.
“For the next ten days or so,” I tell him. Why did I say that? I should have just said two days and headed home as soon as I could. Oh, I know because my heart beat my brain to my mouth that time.
“Please, I’d love to spend that time with you. I could sure use your help planning some of the rooms here at the house, and I’d be happy to take you anywhere you need to go.”
I can tell this is hard for him because he isn’t used to begging for something he can just make happen. If he isn’t now, I know he will be anyway.
I take a deep breath. It would make things easier to stay here, for sure, but it could complicate things too. I mean, I do have my cell phone in my pocket, for crying out loud. It’s turned off to save the battery, but still, how would I explain that one?
I figure I can keep it and the rocks hidden, but I do need to get some clothes. “Okay, but I do need to get some clothes. I kind of came here on a whim and didn’t bring more than what I have on me. If you point me to the local clothing store, I’ll get some clothes and be back before dinner.”
“Nonsense. I can take you.” He starts walking with my hand still in his toward what I am guessing is the garage since that area wasn’t on the tours when I went.
Then I hear Brian in the back of my head tell me to keep to the shadows. I know David is photographed every time he goes out. If I am with him, I could end up in one of the photos.
I start to panic a little bit because I need to limit the number of pictures taken of me. It could change history. “David,” I say.
He stops and looks back at me. “Everything okay, beautiful?”
“Well, umm, what are the chances someone would take a picture of the two of us while we are out?”
He looks a bit confused. “There might be one or two taken of us, but I don’t care. I want to tell everyone you are mine.”
“No, David, please don’t. I don’t want anyone to be able to track me here,” I say before I realize I could have said that better because he instantly looks worried.
“What’s wrong? Is someone after you? You have to know I can protect you.”
I need to calm him down.
“It’s not like that. It’s just ...” I’m franticly searching for something plausible to tell him. “This is so new, and I want to keep it ours for a bit.”
He pauses and studies my face. I try not to let my eyes betray me, but it seems he can read me as well as Brian can. “You aren’t a very good liar, are you?” He chuckles.
I sigh. “No, my mom used to say the same thing and so does Brian.”
I watch his body tense. “Who’s Brian?” he almost growls.
He is just so damn cute when he’s jealous, and I can’t help but smile. I walk over to him and place my hand on his chest to calm him. “Brian has been my best friend since we were kids.”
“How much of a threat is he? Do I need to worry about having to put him in his place?” He still doesn’t look calm. I have to admit I’m enjoying this just a bit. It’s been a long time since anyone has cared enough to get jealous over me.
“David, Brian is zero threat. He is…” I think how to put this because I can’t for the life of me remember how the gay community is viewed during this timeframe, but I guess I can take my chances. “Brian is gay,” I say and watch him very closely.
He looks over my shoulder for a moment in thought, then he relaxes under my touch. “Okay well, let me introduce you to Nancy. She is my housekeeper and cook and the only staff I have here at the house right now. You tell her what size you are, and she will get you some clothes.”
I decide to have a little fun with him. I just can’t resist.
“And this Nancy, how much of a threat is she? Do I need to put her in her place?” I ask but can’t keep a straight face if I tried because the corner of my mouth tilts up.
He turns all serious for a moment, then softens when he looks in my eyes. “No, beautiful, she is more like a grandma to me. If you feel threatened by anyone on my team, you tell me.”
I tear up. “David, I was just playing around with you.”
“I know you were, but I want to make my stance very clear, and I’m trying to do it without scaring you off.”
What’s scaring me is how intense this connection between us is. I have to laugh, though, at how dating or courting has changed through the years.
“If anything, it will be me scaring you away,” I say just above a whisper.
“I doubt that, but we’ll take it at your pace.”
